Scars
by DJ Dork
Summary: L4D2. Scars are souvenirs you never lose. Nick x Rochelle


**Scars  
**by DJ Dork

Rochelle took a deep breath, and walked down the long narrow hallway. She moved away from the white double doors where a mixture of guffaw and clamor exploded behind her. The vast dinning area, or mess hall as others like to call it, was filled and occupied with its normal, safe survivors.

Two weeks ago, Rochelle would have never imagined being here. Two weeks ago, she would have never imagined being alive. They all thought New Orleans was the last place to find salvation, or any remaining sanity in the world, but to their surprise hope still exists.

Miracles are still possible.

No one had any idea that multiple underground bases were built across the United States. Apparently they were built when the first outbreak occurred, or maybe years before in case of an apocalyptic event. Rochelle tried to get some answers, but the military has been doing a good job keeping details to themselves. After a few days, it doesn't really matter.

For the past two weeks the underground base, somewhere around Amarillo, Texas, has been home…for all of them.

"Hi, how are you?"

Rochelle blinked, snapping out of her small daze. She smiled at the young, clean couple passing by her, heading in the opposite direction.

"I'm fine, thank you."

The exchange was friendly and brief. It reminded Rochelle of life before the infection, before the zombies, and before the deaths. Back to when people would go for walks through a park and exchange hellos, or when others would stop to help someone in need. The kind gestures showed that humanity was not all lost, but Rochelle knew the truth.

It will take a long time before life can return to normal.

For others, life will never be the same.

Rochelle turned the corner, and picked up her pace as she neared the East bedrooms. Due to obvious reasons and safety issues, the military separated the men and woman for sleeping arrangements only. Men were located on the East Wing and woman were located the West. Rochelle didn't mind, since it would feel weird sharing a room with a complete male stranger, but she did have problems with her roommate, Clare.

Clare was just like Ellis in a way - she never stops talking. Rochelle enjoys their long talks to some extend, but most of the time silence is the best option. Clare also snores in her sleep, and has continuous nightmares about the undead roaming the surface, but Rochelle can't be annoyed with her about that.

Rochelle stopped in front of the closed, brown door marked 43. She looked up at the number and waited for a long second, questioning herself. She tried to listen for movement on the other side of the room, but heard nothing except a dead silence. Without hesitating a bit longer, Rochelle lifted her hand and knocked.

A few seconds passed before the familiar, irritated voice reached her ears.

"Who is it?"

"It's me," Rochelle said, trying to sound cheerful.

"It's unlocked," the voice replied, softening their voice.

Rochelle opened the door, and took a single step inside. She stood in the threshold, letting the lights from the hall pour into the bedroom. Rochelle's eyes roved the room, which mimicked every single bedroom in the underground base. Two full sized beds rested up against the adjacent wall, and a nightstand sat in between. There were two make-shift closets for belongings, but since everything was lost in the zombie apocalypse there wasn't much to store.

"Hey…Nick," Rochelle greeted.

She closed the door behind her, but didn't make any effort to move deeper into the room. Rochelle's eyes fell to Nick last. He sat his bed, furthest away from the door, and faced the wall, keeping his back to her. He wore dark pants, and a white muscle shirt. Rochelle lowered her gaze to the wet towel on the floor, and could tell he recently got out of the shower.

"I just wanted to check on you, and see how you are doing."

"Why?" Nick asked.

"Because you weren't at dinner," Rochelle replied, softly. She inched her way into the room, glancing at the vacant bed near his. "We were worried, especially Ellis. You know how he can be."

"I'm fine." Nick lowered his head.

"Are you sure?"

"I don't know, Ro." Nick sighed, and glanced back at her for a split second. He looked back down at the floor and ran his fingers through his damp, rustled hair. "Try putting yourself in my position and see just how it feels."

Rochelle frowned, and crossed her arms. There was no need for her to try since she already did when they all first heard the news. It was difficult. Her thoughts only brought tears. What purpose in life was left for those marked as a carrier? Nothing.

It already brought a slight depression upon Nick. She had never seen him so upset and quiet. It was also the reason why the bed next to his was unoccupied. After the military discovered Nick was a carrier, they moved his roommate elsewhere.

"You're not the only one," Rochelle said.

"There's three of us now," Nick explained, indicating with his fingers.

"I know…"

There used to be five of them, but the weight of being a carrier was too much to handle. One of the carriers left the base, and was never heard from again. The other one ended their own life.

"There's no privacy in life anymore. They post our names up and expose everything that is wrong with us. I can't walk down these fucking halls without people giving me dirty looks," Nick said, failing to hide his frustration. "I know I may be a cynical asshole sometimes, but damn. These people treat me like I'm from a different species."

Rochelle remained silent, but moved to the end of his bed. She stood near the nightstand where the single lamp emitted a warm glow across the room. The vibrant bulb shined Nick's slanted shadow across the bare wall.

"They want us to leave," Nick continued.

Rochelle's eyes widened. "What?"

"They want to ship us carriers away from those who aren't. We're considered a threat," Nick replied, inhaling a deep breath.

Rochelle's heart pounded against her chest. This was new to her. She hated to think that Nick would leave them because he was considered a carrier. The rumors surfacing the base returned to her thoughts, after she successfully pushed them away.

_They're killing all of the carriers. The military doesn't want to take any chances._

_The only good carrier is a dead carrier._

Rochelle made a fish with her hands, and closed her eyes. "You can't leave."

Nick chuckled weakly. "I'm sorry sweetheart, but that's not my choice."

"This is horrible," Rochelle cried, hearing the quiver in her voice. "You aren't a threat to us."

"They will probably kill me."

Rochelle sat down on his bed feeling the blood rush up her body, causing her legs to wobble. The tears, dying to escape, brimmed her eyes. Rochelle twisted her neck, staring at Nick's backside once more. Underneath his shirt, she could see the scars marking his body. Some of them were most likely linked to his past before the outbreak, but many of the others - the ones more defined - linked to their journey from Savannah to New Orleans. Those were the scars from the infected - the Hunters, the Witches, the Chargers.

Those scars marked him as a carrier.

"Nicolas…" Rochelle whispered, but he didn't answer her. She crawled across the bed, and he straightened from the sudden weight drawing near him.

She stopped right behind him, and lightly traced her finger across the deep scar stretching from his right shoulder blade to his lower back. He tensed from her touch, but still remained silent. Then she did the only thing she could. She wrapped her arms around him, and embraced him in a tight hug. Rochelle rested her cheek against his back, and let a few tears escape.

"No one will accept me…" Nick murmured, after a moment. "I have nothing left. Is this the punishment I get for all of the shit I've done before?"

"We accept you," Rochelle assured, wiping the tears. She sat up, a little embarrassed that her tears fell against his shirt. "Me, Ellis and Coach will always be here for you. We're a team, remember?"

Rochelle leaned forward and gently kissed his shoulder, right on the tip of the scar she traced. When she pulled away, Nick shifted on the bed and turned to face her. His tired, watery green eyes locked with hers. She smiled, with hopes that he would smile in return.

"You always put too much pressure on yourself, Nick." Rochelle brought her hand up, and stroked his cheek.

"What do you want from me?" Nick asked, almost in a plea.

Instead of answering him, Rochelle slid her hand to his neck and pulled him into a kiss. She closed her eyes, and her heart melted right then and there. She had been dying to be with him like this for as long as she could remember. She knew she harbored deep feelings for him since their adventures back in Louisiana retrieving Virgil's gas. She wanted him, and by the way he delivered his kisses, pushing his tongue into her mouth and biting at her bottom lip, she knew he wanted her just the same.

Nothing else mattered. Screw the carrier diagnosis. She wasn't going to let that come between them.

Rochelle opened her eyes when she briefly pulled away. His warm breath caressed her lips as they lingered dangerously close to each other. She exhaled a long even breath, pushing back the shivers that devoured her body.

"Ro…"

Rochelle smiled and leaned in to give him a another kiss, but this time light and short. "I want you to know that I'm not letting you go. If they are going to take you away, then I will go with you as well."

"Why? I don't want you to get hurt." Nick replied, keeping his voice low. He pulled away from her. "Why take the chance?"

"Why not?" Rochelle shrugged. "You were once a gambler, right?"

"This is different," Nick said. He fell back on the bed, facing the ceiling, but never pulled his gaze from her.

"I don't see much of a difference," Rochelle whispered. She laid down on the bed next to him and rested her head on his chest, enjoying the movement of his steady breathing. Nick wrapped his arm around her, never letting go. "You may be a cynical asshole Nick, but for you…I'm willing to take that chance."

And for the first time, in a long time, Nick finally smiled.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

I just had to get this up. I was inspired to finish this after reading the recent Rochelle and Nick stories that were published by some great authors.

I hope everyone enjoyed it. I surely enjoyed writing it.

Also, for those reading my story _Crossroads_ there is a poll posted up to check out, if you haven't done so already.

And for the Ellis/Rochelle fans go check out my other one-shot _Writings on the Wall_.

**Quick Edit**: I did have this published before, but because it didn't show up anywhere except my profile I decided to upload it again.

Sorry for the mistakes.

-DJ Dork


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